


Reasonable Expectations

by dogearedpage



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 11:13:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8443681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogearedpage/pseuds/dogearedpage
Summary: “There’s a surprise for you in the garage.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Have some pointless, ambiguously-canon-ish future!fic. This is the product of a ‘[first line of dialogue](http://writingexercises.co.uk/dialogue-generator.php)’ prompt generator.
> 
> Basic warnings for Peter Hale, tbh. I mean, I nearly titled this, ‘Probably Not a Dead Body’. So. There’s that. (That being said: this is actually fluff?)
> 
> (This story can also [be found on tumblr](https://sailyoursoul.tumblr.com/post/152153527089/reasonable-expectations).)

"There's a surprise for you in the garage."

Stiles froze in the doorway as he entered the house. Then, after taking a moment to consider the words he just heard, closed the front door behind him and dropped his keys and wallet on the sideboard before making his way in past the entryway.

“A surprise.” Stiles didn’t bother to hide how enthused he wasn’t, but it didn’t seem to deter Peter’s blandly pleased expression.

Peter hummed in agreement, grabbing the knot of Stiles’ tie and used it to draw Stiles toward the kitchen, conveniently closer to the inside entrance to the garage. At least he had the decency to multitask, drawing the material loose and open, untying it as they walked backwards, rather than tightening it from being too grabby.  
  
“It better not be a dead body,” Stiles said, eyes darting between Peter and the door to garage. What the hell was he supposed to say to something like that? A surprise? This was Peter; you never knew with him.

“That was _one time_.” Peter had the nerve to sound offended. Not that it surprised Stiles. Peter was no less of a drama queen than he had been when Stiles was still a teenager.

“One time was one time too many,” Stiles grumbled, words barely more than a soft exhalation. Louder, “ _Is it_ a dead body, though?”  
  
“It’s a _surprise_.” Peter’s smile more resembled a snarl, but Stiles knew better than to take it seriously. When it came to Stiles, Peter was more bark than bite, and the biting was just as much to Stiles’ benefit as Peter’s.

Unimpressed, and more than a little suspicious at Peter’s refusal to refute the idea of leaving a corpse in their garage, Stiles figured it was better to humor him at this point. He’d just gotten home and wanted nothing more than to order delivery and fool around in the shower before it arrived.

Instead he had to deal with a ‘surprise’. From Peter. And with him, there was about a fifty-fifty chance of it being something to put Stiles off food and sex for at least a couple of hours. For example, that time with the _dead body_ Stiles found in the garage.

Without no small amount of trepidation, Stiles withdrew from Peter’s clutches and farther into the kitchen. He pushed open the garage door and reached over to flick on the light.  
  
“No.” Stiles flicked the light off immediately and firmly shut the door. He turned to Peter, who had the gall to smile his most innocent smile. Which, to be fair, wasn’t very, but still.

“No?”  
  
“No!” Stiles shook a finger at Peter, like he was swatting his nose with a rolled up newspaper. “Bad werewolf! Bad!”  
  
Peter’s smile turned positively wicked as he moved forward, backing Stiles up until his back was flush with the door behind him.

“You don’t like it?” he asked, nosing the tender skin just behind Stiles’ ear, breath ghosting his neck and causing Stiles to swallow reflexively.

“Well,” Stiles began weakly, “your timing could use a little work, is all I’m saying.” He knew he was being obvious right now: hips tilting forward, head drawn back and neck bared to Peter’s sinful mouth. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

There was a god damned motorcycle parked in the garage.  
  
Stiles didn’t even _want_ a motorcycle. Not really. He was all too aware of the potential dangers, and unlike some people he knew, Stiles didn’t possess superhuman healing.

But.

Stiles had never been accused of possessing an abundance of self-preservation, either.

“My timing is excellent as always.” Peter grinned, pulling back far enough for Stiles to see the hunger in his eyes before Peter was pushing back in and pressing bared teeth against his throat, nose tucked in close to take in a long drag of Stiles’ scent right from the source.

Stiles slid his hands around Peter’s waist, thumbs drawing small circles just above the waistband of his jeans, unable to help himself.

“If I recall correctly, you were the one to bring up the idea of getting one.” Peter spoke directly into Stiles’ skin, teeth scraping against the day’s slow growth of stubble. Stiles couldn’t stop his eyes from fluttering at the sensation.

Peter was being completely unreasonable right now. Pretty par for the course when it came to Peter, but _still_. This was playing dirty.

“That was idle fantasizing. You can’t hold me responsible for your shopping addiction. You just like buying shiny things; admit it.”

“Mm, I’ve never claimed otherwise,” Peter murmured, and bit down on Stiles’ adam’s apple hard enough to cause Stiles’ hips to jolt, grinding up against Peter, but not hard enough to leave a mark that would still be there come morning. Or, at least, he better not have, because Stiles could not show up to teach his classes with a bite mark on his neck. Again.

Speaking of which....

“You are never driving me to work on that thing. Just putting that out there.”  
  
Peter jerked back far enough to give Stiles a half-hearted glower.

“I’m not sure I like this socially respectable side of you,” he said, not that Stiles was surprised to hear it.  
  
“Suck it up,” Stiles shot back, lowering his chin. Thankfully, these days he knew exactly how to handle Peter’s mercurial moods.

Peter scoffed at the dismissive remark.

“I’d rather suck something else, unless you plan on scolding me for that as well.”  
  
“No, no,” Stiles said, waving a hand in the air lazily, “please. Go right ahead.” He grinned and threw his head back against the door again as Peter slid down to his knees.  
  
Oh, yeah. Stiles knew exactly how to handle Peter.


End file.
